Glass
by HyperCatt
Summary: There are so many fragile things in this world, just waiting to be broken. AU [specialshipping]


In the onset of the New Year, Red moves to a new area.

It rains all the way there, and he sits in the back seat even though there's room in the front, easily deflecting all attempts at conversation. They drive through an area with lots of trees, then just a few, and then none. This city is grey and small, clouds settled like a persistent dust slowly choking the sky. Miserable and dull, but he can't say he misses home.

('Home'.)

The new place has less space and he gets his own room, but the differences end there. He's still who he is, they're still whoever they always were and everyone keeps going as normal.

The downpour fades out around midnight, so Red lies and listens to the sirens outside, the world feeling empty and devoid. His pillow is stiff and it hurts his neck. That first night, he doesn't sleep a wink.

* * *

Since he moved, Red has to start a new school. He prefers not to judge things too quickly, so he makes it until the second day before deciding he hates it, as expected. People ask him questions, and more questions, too personal and accusatory, hollow words intended to provoke, and they pack small dents into his composure until he's left clenching his fists and telling himself 'I won't get into a fight on the _second_ day, not this soon, I can't I won't'.

He goes for the third day, instead.

Everyone at once tries to find meaning to this unhesitating behaviour, enquiring 'what exactly was it that set you off?'. Red doesn't know. It's hard to say. There's never really anything that 'sets him off', it's just how it is. Discomfort pools in him day out and in, and if his concentration slips he can't keep it bottled in, so it violently bursts out in swears and furious blood.

"Three days," she mutters, her fingers twisting the damaged coil of a phone whilst he waits on a chair, shoulders slumped. Three days, yes. A new record (in a morbid kind of way). Red doesn't know what will happen. Suspension? Expulsion? Never before has the first one been this soon.

In the end he gets what they call 'lucky', sentenced only to leave for the rest of the week, and then 'special' classes after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Nothing unique.

* * *

Red never makes it to the Tuesday session, because in the morning he knocks a boy out in the yard.

In all honesty, he was actually trying to supress the urge to fight back this time, trying furiously to block it out when it lurched up inside him. But words get around quickly and the whole school knows him as some disturbed new kid who attacks unprovoked after that first mistake so now they've started targeting him. Again, a new record (in a morbid kind of way).

It's so quick that the teacher haven't got to him yet. His nose is bleeding heavily, eye stained purple, and there's a crowd of at least a hundred kids yelling and gawping at him. Disgusted, terrified, furious. They hate him, and probably didn't even see the other boy swing the first hit. All of a sudden Red just can't be bothered with it anymore, none of it. It's pathetic, empty, _empty_ , so he sprints away and leaps over the fence.

Maybe he's out of control. Maybe things have gone too far. How did he get to this point? Didn't he used to be a well-liked kid, all those years ago? It's almost pitiful and he's hopeless. He can't be bothered. He can't be _bothered._

Somewhere in the midst of his trek through the fields his nose stops bleeding, but everything hurts more now the adrenaline is draining. It's nice out here though, soothing, and he can forget about consequence and future for a while. It's just him and nature out here. So he just focuses on walking.

Red walks and walks and has no idea when to stop. How long has it been now? Could be hours. Is he far away? Probably. Will someone come looking for him? He doubts it. Is that good or bad? …Depends, he guesses.

The thoughts swarm in incoherent clusters for what feels like hours as he keeps walking and he contemplates just offing himself more than what he considers the reasonable amount, but then it all stops when he sees a greenhouse. A greenhouse? Out here, in the open, forgotten fields. It's huge…well, he supposes, because it's not like he's ever seen something like this in real life before. It definitely looks run down, the once transparent walls coated in moss. Something about it…intrigues him, and he crashes the door open without a second thought.

It…smells nice in here. It's fresh and earthy, and Red peers around. Most light floods in through the ceiling, with a few random bursts on the surrounding glass walls where the moss and leaves don't stick. It's darker than outside, but it's more inviting than anything else, a promise of protection, and the plants don't seem to have a problem with it. Everything in here is overgrown and wild – but still bright and determined.

Red traces the carpet of mud and scattered daisies all the way into the corner of the greenhouse, eyes drifting around aimlessly until he meets a pair of wide golden eyes. He stops, stares, attempts to think, and then stops again.

"…Um," she says, a pale girl with long hair tied behind her, legs tucked to her body and small hands with blunt nails clutching a book. No, wait, the page is almost blank – it's a sketchbook or something. She's wearing a school uniform he doesn't recognise, and has buckled shoes placed as to not accidentally crush any flower beneath her and- he can't stop staring. His gaze is stuck, but luckily his mouth isn't.

"…Uh…you…-you're…" No, it's not lucky. Maybe it would be better if his mouth wouldn't open so he could form something coherent to say first. But what can he say? What does a person say in this kind of situation? "…Who are you?"

He swears furiously at himself internally at the bluntness, too aware this is not how you give off a good first impression. The girl's eyes shy away from him, and she remains silent. It confuses him for a moment because surely it wasn't that weird a question, but then he remembers the fact he's got blood smeared across his top lip and right cheek where he tried to rub it away, not to mention his shirt is covered in it. She probably thinks he's some kind of criminal. She's probably not too far off.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he ends up saying, even though nobody was saying that. "I- the blood- I was in a fight. At my school."

She probably already knows that since he's in uniform, similar to her. Actually, she's dressed for school, maybe she's on a trip then, maybe her classmates are around, he'll get caught-

"…Why did you come here?"

He blinks. His heart stutters a little at the unexpected question, not completely but very much so because she has a really nice voice, delicate and light but still strong all the same. He forgets to feel angry now, feeling more like he's dealing with a gentle doe than the pack of vultures back in the yard. If every counsellor had a voice like that, he'd probably be normal. Maybe she's okay then. Or maybe he's just stereotypically sexist.

"I found it," he replies, looking around at the flowers and leaves. She doesn't reply and he realises it isn't really an adequate response a few seconds later. "I…got away from school, I ran off. 'Cause I was gonna get in trouble."

"Oh," she says, then looks down in what he assumes is mild discomfort. Red stares, waiting.

"…What about you?"

"S-sorry?"

"Why are _you_ here then?"

She doesn't move then, holding a dull pencil with a broken tip steady in her hand. He imagines the greenhouse making some kind of creaking noise because it's probably old and they're stood in silence, but it doesn't. Nothing moves. It's uncomfortable, but just as he's about to ask again she speaks up.

"It's the same as you. I was going to get in trouble."

It's a vague reply, a little empty, but it still gives him this sense of a pact with her, like they're both hiding out against their own mistakes and regrets. It's intriguing, and Red's suddenly a lot more interested in this mystery girl he found in a lost greenhouse.

"What're you drawing?" He leans forwards a little, hopefully not too far. She tightens her hold on the book, then loosens it.

"It's the flowers," she murmurs, then holds it out a little. "Here."

The page holds a pretty but incomplete sketch of some kind of flower with long petals, the lines rough but light. It's a beat up sketchpad, the paper creased with hard work and erase marks. The girl's hands are trembling a little, but there's too many reasons for that for him to dwell on.

"It's really good," he says lamely, because art's never really been a strong area of expertise for him. Then he notices below the stand she's sat next to there's a large stack of equally crumpled pages, and the top one has a different flower drawing on it. "Are they all yours? Man, you must love drawing all this stuff."

"I-I guess?" She shrugs just a little and smiles unsurely, and he feels accomplished then, like he finally did something right. "I mostly like it in here. It's peaceful."

"Yeah," he agrees, then suddenly a horrifying thought hits him. "This isn't like… _your_ place, is it? I'm not getting in the way or anything…"

"N-no! Of course not." Her eyes suddenly drift from looking at him and instead move to watch a ladybird, before she brings it onto her finger and watches it almost fondly. It's an unexpected action, and he finds it kind of cute, as well impressive that she's gentle enough not to hurt it. That's probably what he'd have ended up doing.

"…Can I join you?" Red asks, and she jumps, looking at him again. "I mean, I don't wanna go back to school and it's pretty cool in here."

"Are you sure?" she counters. "I'm…not very good at talking."

"That's fine," he says, grinning just the smallest amount at the prospect of not going back. "I could do with some silence for once, y'know?"

"…Okay," she says quietly, then smiles again, eyes back on her drawing. "I-I'm Yellow, by the way."

"Red."

* * *

They don't let him back to school for a week, so he stays in his bedroom, thinking. That girl, Yellow, she was so nice, so peaceable and calm. He wishes more people were like her, but then because it's such a rarity it kind of makes it even better that he met her. He wonders about her life and wants to be angry at the mystery but isn't. He's amazed, captivated, and thinks so much he manages to escape a heap of potential fights. So that's…something, Red thinks.

That Monday back is awful, and he spends every moment of it wanting to die, head filled with what feels like incessant and loud tangles of thoughts that probably result from the new medication they've put him on. It's supposed to make him calm, but it makes him tired and frustrated instead. He can't be bothered with the hate of his peers, but now he can't be bothered to fight back either.

The others use this retreat as further fuel to slate him more, and he does deserve it, Red guesses, but then again, the first he punched was taking the piss anyway, and the second was threatening him-

-but then he doesn't know if they're even valid reasons. Nobody ever really taught him about stuff like that.

Red skips the bus at the day's end. He climbs the fence when nobody's looking, and sets off across the fields.

It feels longer today, maybe because he's not all fired up walking without direction or aim – this time, he's looking for something.

She's there again, same spot, same position, same uniform. Her eyes widen dramatically when she sees him, then flash with a weird emotion – and it looks like she's about to burst into tears.

"I didn't…think you'd come back," she admits when he asks, pencil trembling in her hand. Then she grins up at him, somehow brightening every hue of every plant. "Thank you. I'm glad."

He shrugs sheepishly and just smiles back, energy low. "I'm glad you're here too. What're you drawing today?"

"That one." She waves too vaguely but connects the image on the page to the trial of flowers hanging onto a table leg. "Clematis."

"You really like flowers, huh." He stares at the petals. "You wanna be a…plant biologist or something? Or whatever they're called."

"…I'd like to be a nurse," she replies quietly.

"That's not really related to flowers though."

"Some plants heal," she points out hastily. "You can use aloe vera for lots of medical purposes."

"Yeah." Then he laughs at the indignation on her face, and she ducks head her shyly, cheeks a little pinker. "You're kinda interesting."

"…What?"

"I really can't figure you out, y'know," he muses. "Normally people have some kind of set type, and I thought you'd be that nerdy quiet girl, but you're not really. Have you even been to school today?"

"I…don't like Mondays. Or Thursdays. So…no. Not today."

"Why not?"

She stares at him and suddenly he's scared he offended her, overstepping boundaries by asking personal questions, they've only met twice, god he's an idiot, always such an idiot to everyone he talks to no wonder they hate him-

"Nobody notices," she says, and all Red's thoughts collapse. "If I stay off, it's not like anyone realises. So I just don't go."

"…Wish I could get away with that," Red says after a short pause. "People are always on my case. And I've only been here like, two weeks."

"That doesn't sound good...But…I'm sure it'll get better soon!"

"Nah, s'always been like this," he says, and pulls what he hopes is a weed out of the dirt by his side carelessly. "This place needs fixing up."

"I-I do try," Yellow says, indignation flashing again. Now he might have actually offended her. "I-I don't have the money to get most things, but I try to water them, and- and I pull the weeds up and put them in buckets, and try to get rid of pests, and…"

"So you look after this place? Doing all that yourself?"

"Y-yes, I guess. I think I'm the only one who knows about it- um, other than you!"

"I should help you clean it up," he says, and Yellow doesn't reply, but smiles down at her drawing. "It's not nice, it being all abandoned like this. Nobody deserves to be abandoned."

Yellow watches him then, golden eyes studying him. He feels weirdly embarrassed, like she'll discover something secret about him. He kind of hopes she manages to find it.

* * *

Red doesn't get suspended again. He's stopped fighting now; it doesn't feel like it's the type of person he wants to be anymore. Is it the medication? It is just self-defeat? Is it the peace of Monday and Thursday afternoons? He doesn't know. He doesn't know.

It's been three months since he moved here, according to his calendar because it's not like he's counting. Three months, nineteen nosebleeds, seven black eyes, three fractures and two split knuckles. (Not that he's counting.) Nobody notices his frequent injuries or maybe they just don't care – maybe they think he's the one who starts the 'fights'. Teachers ignore it and so does everyone else. Red tries his best to do the same.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

They jumped him at the school gates before he could run, and his nose is still dripping by the time he gets to the greenhouse. Yellow stands with a handful of weeds and stares at him, concerned…for whatever reason.

"This?" he says thickly, using the bottom of his blouse (it's stained anyway) to catch the blood. "S'not too bad. 'M used to it."

"It looks bad," she says, throwing the weeds in a nearby bucket that has a long crack in the side. "Here, hold on. I have an idea."

Red holds his head back whilst Yellow steps carefully over a collection of flowers and/or weeds, before snapping a leaf off a plant and making her way back to him.

"Don't worry about it, it's almost stopped now-"

"Let me help."

Her voice is gentle and melodic so Red can't find any way to refuse. She leans up to him and suddenly rubs something cold and slimy on his cheek. He recoils.

"It's aloe vera," she explains, and he sighs and lets her continue. "I told you about this, didn't I? It's so lucky we had some- I was so excited when I found it! Someone must have planted it in here a long time ago. It was hiding amongst all the clutter, and when I saw it I thought straight away 'this'll be perfect for Red's bruises'. Hold still."

It's really strange then because Red blushes, which he never normally does, but he's embarrassed for a number of reasons. She's shorter than him and has to lean up to reach his face, which is funny, but then when she's closer he can see her face better and she's actually really cute and pretty, like her voice, which he just heard a lot and he's never heard her speak that much before, and then she has nice eyes he can see fully now, and then she thought about him with the plant, and she's just such a good person, helping him. He doesn't deserve it. He…doesn't deserve it.

"Stop, c'mon." He steps back and Yellow stumbles a little as he moves suddenly, throwing off her balance, and it makes the sense of guilt grow. "You don't need to worry about it. It's my own fault."

"I don't think it is," she murmurs, voice hardly audible, but she hands him the leaf and turns. "Please can you help me clear some moss on the ceiling? It's blocking the light a little."

Red helps her, and then there's a burst of sunshine when the clumps fall, making the greenhouse a little brighter.

"That should do it!" She smiles happily, and Red stares at the newfound light in the room. It's confusing, how such a little thing can make the entire place light up. Confusing, but that doesn't mean it's bad.

* * *

The air starts to warm with the arrival of early summer, and Red ends up visiting the greenhouse almost every day after school. He hasn't told anyone and doesn't want to, doesn't want to bring anybody else into this place where everything is normal and relaxed.

Yellow starts drawing in the mornings more often than not now, doing work instead in the afternoons alongside Red. They've made progress – there's a corner that actually looks nice and orderly now, but then again it's only one corner. They've got a lot of work to do, but it helps with Yellow always there on two days of the week. She's yet to tell him about why she skips school, and one day he decides to just risk it and ask outright.

"Didn't I say? I don't like Mondays and Thursdays." She doesn't look at him whilst she talks, idly brushing dried soil off the leaves of a plotted plant.

"Why those days though?" he asks. "Is there like, a particular thing about them or something?"

"…I have P.E on those days," she murmurs, and Red turns with a raised brow.

"Is that it? It's just sports. Even if you really don't like them, why don't you just skip the lesson rather than the entire day?"

"I used to," she says with a slight tug on her skirt. "But then nobody realised, and- and I don't really like school anyway, so…I just stopped going on those days all together."

"Don't you fall behind and stuff?" Red stops working now, leaning back on a table. It creaks dangerously. "Like, I'm failing pretty much everything, and I actually go in most days – if I'm not suspended."

"I just work harder when I'm at home. And in here, sometimes."

Red contemplates this for a few moments, and looks around at the collection of thin spider webs tucked in the corner of the roof, string trailing and hanging loosely. "You ought to go back to school, Yellow. I bet you're really smart, I bet you could do well. You wanna be a nurse, right? You could do that, I reckon."

"I-" she starts, then stops, looking away with clear embarrassment. "…I didn't think you'd remember that."

"Not like I have anyone else's stuff to remember," he says lightly. "You're pretty much the only friend I've got, and definitely the best I've had in a long long time."

"Oh, um." She turns away just as her face goes scarlet, but Red sees her smile anyway.

"How come nobody realises when you stay off anyway? Seems like something you'd get in trouble for."

"I don't…have much of a presence. I never really talk, and nothing changes if I'm not there so…"

Red considers this momentarily, wondering how anybody could not notice such a brilliant person, before taking a risk and asking a question sitting prominently within his pool of curiosity. "Don't your parents mind?"

As he expects, Yellow stays quiet.

"I-I get it if you don't wanna talk about it," he tries hastily, desperate to fix the lull in the conversation whilst internally reprimanding himself." I just thought, sometimes it helps to talk about it, and uh, I'm from- like, I live in a kid's home so we're all kinda messed up there, and we don't really ask about it, nobody judges, but, sorry, I just-"

"It's fine," she almost whispers, and her voice is suddenly so fragile he's actually worried she might just crumble into pieces right there and then. "My uncle doesn't mind. He doesn't notice either."

Red doesn't ask any more and instead talks about the flowers, and Yellow talks about them too, so they don't have to think about the things they came here to avoid, and that's probably okay for now.

* * *

Red doesn't think of himself as a very intelligent person. When something goes right, his unstructured thoughts ruin it. He supposes he just has a talent for making things go wrong.

The weather is nice still, and now it stays lighter for much longer so he doesn't go back until late, expertly avoiding questions of his whereabouts. He goes every day for hours even when Yellow isn't there, because it makes him feel like he's doing something good, and it's going _right_ so far, so Red doesn't know why it's so crushing when things finally go wrong.

One day, they follow him.

Red walks happily because it's Thursday so she'll be there, walks happily through the grass, sleeves rolled up even though it's raining in the unrelenting heat. They didn't even beat him up today. So it's going good. It's okay until it's not.

The damage is clear as soon as he sees Yellow sat in the mud outside and the hundreds of thousands of glass shard littered all around her, broken, broken broken broken into nothing. She looks up at him whilst he stares with a near empty mind, and maybe she's crying or maybe she was, it's hard to tell in the rain. And it's ruined, it's broken and shattered and hurt all on the ground, destroyed, fragile walls gone and lost into the mud. Red knows it wasn't an accident, and now he can't stay calm.

"Red," Yellow begs when he runs forwards and starts grasping at the glass in some kind of desperate action, fists clenched hard against the sharp edges cutting hard into his skin. It doesn't hurt as much as he deserves, not even slightly. And he can hardly even hear Yellow's voice because he's so _angry_ , angrier than he's ever been in his life, angrier than when they just shipped him off to a different home, angrier than when his first foster parents sent him back- "Red, it's okay-"

"It's not!" he yells and regrets it when she flinches, probably afraid, probably hating him, and 'you've never seen me like I am at school' but now she has, she has and she'll hate him the same everyone else, and this is his fault, of course it is, he's ruined all she had, and god he's so angry, so angry it's like his vision has vanished, he can't focus he's furious, _furious-_

There's nothing he can lash out at, he doesn't want to ruin anything here anymore than it's already suffered, so he drops the glass and starts knocking his fists into his head instead. He's crying now but he hopes the rain hides it, and he hopes Yellow can't see and hopes she never will. She should run. Meeting him is a curse. He's a terrible person.

"Please calm down," she pleads, and suddenly wraps her arms around him. Is she crying? He can't tell. "Please, Red. It's not your fault. Please, we can fix this."

And she just has that thing, something about her that makes him think maybe they can fix it, even though they have no money and it's ruined, and it'll get swept away forever, it's not worth fixing now, and-

"It's fine," she says, soothing, and he drops his arms limply. "Don't worry. This can be fixed."

And he sits with her in silence as the rain pours on, and at some point she tries to do something with his cuts, but he can't feel them, and they don't matter. He's fine if his stupidity injures him, but it's not right for it to hurt other people, people he _cares_ about. He feels sick, tired, defeated, _empty._

"I'm so sorry," Red murmurs eventually, head low.

"It's not your fault," she says back, just as quietly, and he almost breaks down crying again.

* * *

As it turns out, he ends up needing stitches.

Red doesn't get home until dramatically late, and you can't avoid questions when you turn up in drenched clothes with deep gashes on your palms at 1am. And then he just feels so exhausted with life that he just tells them, tells them everything about the greenhouse whilst they sit in A&E until the birds wake.

The others are awake for school already when he gets back, and then rumours have spread already. Obviously. They do that in places like this. But they're incorrect and twisted, and Red punches a boy for telling the others it was Red himself who smashed up the greenhouse to spite some girl.

So it starts again. The anger and the fighting. And whatever. They all deserve it anyway.

* * *

Yellow isn't there the following Monday. Red feels sick, not just because he received several kicks to the stomach beforehand. This is the first time since he's known her that does hasn't been here. And it's his fault. Of course it is.

The people at the home sense his distress, which doesn't take a lot of looking into since the school inform them he's now on his very last warning. Soon he'll be expelled. Soon he'll get moved again. Maybe then Yellow will be safe and live a good life. The best life – one without him in it.

"You could've told us," a carer says, stood by his door. "We could've helped-"

"I don't need your help," he cuts in, voice surprisingly yet satisfyingly scathing, and the woman turns and leaves. Now he's alone again, alone as always.

* * *

Red's terrified the boys will follow him again and somehow do more damage, so he waits until he sees them get on the bus every day now. They don't need to go back though, do they? Once was enough. One hit is all it takes to the shatter the glass forever.

She isn't there again on the Thursday and he's both heartbroken and hopeful, but then she's there on the Friday, and it's completely unexpected and amazing and terrifying.

Once more she's sat in that corner, with no sketchbook though, and the sea of glass ripples around her. He's scared because she might hurt herself, and then notices how she's obviously been crying and the fear triples by the thousands. Red wonders if he should leave, but their eyes meet for a second, and he knows to stay.

"Yellow," he says once, breathlessly, then moves to sit next to her. His palms prick with pain as he brushes the shards to the side. "…You're not drawing today."

"I ran out of paper," she whispers. It's so void and lifeless that a hollow and heavy feeling settles into Red's stomach, heart beat resonating through the emptiness.

For a few moments they sit there, and Red hears the grasshoppers outside in the grass with their invisible violins, and then sometimes a buzz of a fly zips past, but mostly it's just silence.

"I-"

They both speak at the same time, and Red snaps his mouth shut instantly, furious he might have blocked her attempt to talk or explain or anything and she's clearly upset so why is not giving her space this is all his fault anyway and like she WANTS him here anyway like she would care about him as much as he does about her because she's so good and he's just-!

"I'm sorry," she says softly, and Red blinks. "…I haven't shown up in a while."

The shaky phrase sets off alarms in Red's head because she really sounds like she might cry, so he risks another question because he's too concerned to be subtle by now. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"…" Nothing for a few moments, but maybe she's just, thinking, or something like that, it doesn't mean she hates him, maybe, or- "I went in on the Monday, since I couldn't come back here."

"That's-" he attempts, then stops. It feels ugly, knowing that he was the reason that meant she couldn't stay here instead. And now she's upset. "…Did something happen?"

"I-I was going to hide in the toilets," she says, staring at the ground. "But, a teacher saw me, so I couldn't just skip, I'd get in trouble, so I had to, and…then, she, she started getting mad when I wouldn't get changed, and she was mad anyway, because I don't have a kit, I was borrowing one – she got mad and then I- I didn't know what to do, I couldn't, but I had to, so I did, and she saw everything because we have to wear shorts and-!"

Yellow takes heaved gasps, tears streaming down her face whilst her tucked up body trembles. It's not a hard choice to make – Red puts his arm around her and lets her cry into his chest, and she really cries and the pieces of his heart join the glass scattered on the ground.

"They all know now," she sobs, tightening her grip. "They all know."

"I…" He doesn't want to ask because it's none of his business but then he's so worried it's hardly like has a choice anymore. "What is it...that they know."

"Because I-" she gasps, then stops. "…I- it's so stupid, sorry, it's stupid, I'm-"

"You can tell me if you want. I think I know a thing or two about being stupid, and you're definitely not."

She stops her shudders for a second, shivering a little. It's tense and he's so, _so_ scared now, terrified of further offending her or saying the wrong thing after everything he's already caused her. Yellow's voice sounds with the same strength as a buttercup. "I cut at my legs. I-I didn't, I haven't not for a while, not since you, but there are scars and now everyone knows, even though before they never realised there I was there, they all know."

Red feels cold, almost numb, even though it's warn outside of the shade they sit in. The sky is bright blue, devoid of clouds. In the distance there's more grasshoppers chirping. Yellow just cries into him, never relenting, and he wonders if he's to blame.

"It's so stupid, I just, because, because people never noticed I was there, and I didn't feel needed, it made me upset, and if I cut it helped, even though it's really stupid, and, and I- because nobody, nobody would care, if I died, they wouldn't even notice-"

"I'd notice," Red says then, scared. "I'd notice."

"I'm so sorry I'm like this," she murmurs whilst the tears keep trailing down her pale face, fast and clear. "I'm so sorry."

"I've-" He starts, then stops because this isn't about him. "You're the best person I've ever met. All the plants and stuff in here wouldn't be here if you didn't look after them. I really care about you, because you're so nice, and, you have a nice voice, and, uh…"

Yellow laughs through her tears and the stream grows heavier, and she wipes them away with the back of her hand though they keep falling. It's an encouraging sound, so he keeps going.

"You're really smart, and- kind of cute, and you're really nice - did I already say that, well it's true, and uh, I don't think the people at your school will mind because it's not even weird. I punch stuff with the intent to hurt myself, y'know? We're both kind of messed up but that's not a bad thing, we're- we're- like you always say, it'll get better and stuff."

And then she smiles again, and it's sad but beautiful, the kind of hopefulness you only see in a completely hopeless situation.

"Thank you," she says softly. "We'll be okay, won't we."

She's still crying so he doesn't move from holding her, and Yellow seems content on staying there. It's really weird that now he's comforting her, because he doesn't think he's ever done that and doesn't really think he's any good at it, he's not got a lot of common sense, so she probably just ignore it, but then again, not if it helps her feel better, but…something…like that.

Words fail him now; his mind doesn't think it can go on for much longer saying and doing coherent things, so he looks around instead. There's a stray flower on the floor, knocked down from its pot with its stem snapped, and he picks up, stretching so he doesn't have to leave Yellow's side. It smells sweet, petals bright and determined even though it's on a certain road to death. He didn't pick it up for any reason, mostly just because it was there, but now she's watching him.

"Maybe we can replant it," she says, almost like she knew what he was thinking. "It'll grow again then. It'll get bigger with its own space."

"That's a good idea," he says, before slotting the short stem into Yellow's hair. "I told you you were smart."

She reaches up with trembling fingers and hovers over the petals, and then smiles a little. Her face is red and she sniffs every few second but he really does think she looks beautiful.

* * *

A 'final warning' from this school seems to warrant a little more than the others.

Red has to attend a compulsory – _compulsory –_ session every Saturday for two hours for the next three months. It's not like he's never been to something like this before, but it's a little different this time round, maybe because this time he kind of, just a little, maybe wants to stay in this area. Because the 'final warning' is for his current home as well as the school. So he breaks it and he's out. Back off across the country to whichever place takes him next. But now he's getting older, they might not want to support him anymore. The system ends up at eighteen, and he's not too far off. From there, it's independent living.

So he attends because he has to, feeling stereotypical and stupid sat on a plastic chair with a black eye and bandages on his hands whilst the woman at the front talks about 'positive releases of emotion'. It's boring, god it's boring, and he hates being cooped up with all these other violent people, always waiting to see who will be the first to have some kind of outburst. He hopes it won't be him this time.

Red doesn't really listen. He ends up thinking about the greenhouse and Yellow and her school and if she's okay and all of that stuff, but then the woman mentions community service and his mind suddenly ropes the two thought processes tightly together.

"This could be anything, from helping out at a resident's home to holding charity bake sales. Being an active part of your community is the most impor-"

"What about if we wanna fix something up?" Red cuts in, ignoring the mocking looks from the others in the circle shoot at him. "Like, a damaged building or something."

"Probably the one who smashed 'em up in the first place, ain't yuh," another boy comments, and Red clenches his teeth but doesn't bite. This matters more.

"Yeah, that's a perfectly good idea!" She smiles at him, but it's not as bright as Yellow's. Not even close. "Did you have something in mind already?"

"I dunno, maybe." He ducks back down into his seat, not wanting to expand, so she carries on with her talk, but Red doesn't even slightly listen now. When the paper comes around he ticks the box for volunteer renovation and writes in the dotted lines 'personal project'.

It's accepted, and Red starts to feel hopeful again.

* * *

"Where did you get that?" Yellow asks when Red walks over with a broom in his hands.

"Stole it," he shrugs, thinking back to how easy it had been to sneak into the cleaner's supplies and jump the fence with it before the bell rang. "I'll give it back. It's not like they're gonna miss it."

"You shouldn't have taken it," Yellow scolds lightly, but doesn't complain when he starts sweeping glass in a pile. "You seem really upbeat today. I'm glad!"

"Well," he starts, then stops and smiles. "Y'know. Good things happen."

"What? Why, what happened? Red?"

"Oh, y'know," he says lightly, turning to hide his grin even though he knows she's already seen it.

There's silence and he feels her quizzical stares on his back for so long that he just can't keep it up anymore.

"I'm getting some money to spend here," he confesses, turning back around, unable to keep a straight face. "And if I don't get into any more fights, I'll get more. Enough for new windows and stuff even."

"Wh-what? Really? Are you serious? That's- that's amazing! I- that's so good!"

He shrugs and keeps sweeping, but it feels like there's endless laughter bubbling up inside him. She's really happy, he knew she would be. He imagined how she'd react but it's so much better actually seeing it. Seeing her so happy, it kind of makes him feel happy too. No, not 'kind of', it definitely does.

"I believe you can do it," she says softly, stepping a little closer to him so he can see the honesty in her eyes. "You- you're better than the boys who hurt you, you're…you're…"

She trails off shyly and then he does laugh, ruffling her hair. "You're allowed to say mean stuff if you want, Yellow."

"I didn't mean that!" she exclaims, flustered. "I-I just…um..b-but anyway, who's going to give you the money?"

"It's not loads. All I gotta do is take pictures and stuff to show I'm working on it and it's getting better. I agreed with them they didn't need to assist in it. Hey, you know this plot of land is owned by the government since the old man who owned it before died? That worked out lucky for us 'cause it gives us permission to work all we want on it."

"That's…" Yellow stops, and suddenly her eyes fill up with tears. He panics – oh crap, he upset her, was it the old man, maybe she knew him, or someone like him, maybe he ruined it by telling someone else about it, it's their place- "I'm so happy! Thank you so much, you don't know how much- how much this place means to me. It's always been like my escape…and now we can make it even better than when I found it!"

Oh, she's happy. He probably should have guessed as much. Yellow's happy almost every minute of every day somehow, like a shining sprit of unshakable optimism. Well, apart from the other day, when…

"How's school?" he blurts out, instantly regretting it when he sees her smile fade. "S-sorry, I…"

"It's…not as bad as I thought?" she says with a tiny shrug. "People…aren't teasing me. I think some people forgot, or didn't know it was about me because a lot of people don't know my name. O-one girl even said I could talk to her if I ever needed to, she was really nice, but um, I think I'd rather talk to you."

"Well, never hurts to have more friends, right?" he says as if the last bit didn't affect him (and it _didn't,_ that sudden rush of euphoric emotion was something completely unrelated). "I'm really glad it's working out for you. I'd hate for you to be unhappy."

"Mm. Everything feels like it's getting better now!"

Red just keeps sweeping carelessly even though he's got all the biggest shards in a pile now, thinking about it all. This cute little greenhouse with no walls, their place to talk and relax and do whatever, it's such a nice place, a place he's always so glad he found, a girl he's so happy he met.

"It's funny, huh, cleaning up this place," Red says a little aimlessly when Yellow goes back to work, picking up a bucket. "'s kinda like we're living together, tidying up our place or something."

There's a clatter as Yellow drops the bucket, and Red turns to see her staring at him with a red face and mouth agape.

"What?"

"I-it's nothing!" she exclaims, before turning swiftly as a shy smile breaks out on her face. He thinks about it for a few seconds more, then realises the implications. And it makes him flush too and turn away even though she's not looking, and he grins harder than he has in a long time.

* * *

One day, she comes with him to one of the meetings. He doesn't ask because he doesn't think she'd want to come, but Yellow shyly enquires about it one day just as they're going home, and he can't find a proper excuse to justify a no.

Honestly, he's a little apprehensive because he knows what these places can be like, with the sudden bursts of fights and swearing from every direction. And Yellow doesn't seem like she fits in here anyway, she's too gentle. Red hopes the lingering air of protection he's giving off isn't too obvious to any of the workers.

It's the first time he's seen her out of her uniform, and she wears a cute top that suits her. Red doesn't mention the fact that she's wearing jeans in burningly hot weather, and she never complains about being too warm.

Luckily they don't have to sit in the group meeting together, instead managing to get a one on one with the worker. They talk, and Yellow seems shy, but she eventually opens up and talks about budgets and things Red isn't any good with.

In the end, it turns out to be nice having her there with him. He hopes she'll want to come again.

* * *

Somehow, _somehow_ , Red makes it to the end of school without fighting again. They still knock at him, but not as much after the final exams, and then suddenly school is finished for good, and he never has to go back. It's great, but the best thing is that they're really almost finished, after seven months of having met and two months of cleaning on the budget. He's got one month of the meetings left, but he guesses most of it will be feedback on the work they've done.

The windows were cheaper than he'd anticipated, and he can't help wonder if his carers pulled a few strings. They seem really happy he's stopped fighting and even happier he managed not to get expelled and finish high school, even if he failed most subjects and barely passed the basics (only with Yellow's help). But it doesn't matter, because the greenhouse is whole again. And even though he's frightened that too much is going right, which is the perfect recipe for things to go wrong, he has Yellow with him, so together, they might be able to beat the bad luck streak.

"This is the last photo," he says with a smile. "Then I can file it as 'completed'. Man, that feels so good. I've never finished one of these before."

"It's so beautiful," Yellow breathes, looking in awe. "You never really realise when you're cleaning, but now it's finished it's just…"

And she's right (of course she's right). It's open and clear, chipped pots replaced with the clean and smooth, bursts of vibrant hues and shades of every colour in every direction with all the flowers, the floor is almost shining they've cleaned it so well, and the moss has vanished from the walls. Everything is brighter, but Red thinks it's only partially due to the clean glass surround them.

"Ah, there are so many ladybirds on these roses…that's good I think, because they eat aphids. Aren't they cute? Look, Red, there must be at least ten here."

He looks. They're not nearly as cute as she is. Which is understandable because she's adorable, and it's weird he thinks so but she just makes him grin with how cute she is, so strong and brave and pretty in every sense, and if he's not careful he'll zone out again looking at her, because he keeps doing that lately.

"This place is just…so good, isn't it?" She looks at him and beams, letting a ladybird fly off her hand. "I feel so much happier with life now- is that weird? It used to be kind of lonely and dull in here, even though I've always loved it. And I haven't…I haven't hurt my legs in over four months, and I don't think I will again. Nothing feels scary or sad anymore. I'm just…um…well, it's hard to say."

Hearing her say that makes him feel so amazing, because it is true, it's so much better now and life isn't empty anymore, it's full of flowers and chances and something even better still, and he knows whatever happens next they can just go with it, because they overcame all this so they can probably overcome anything.

"We can spend all day here in holidays; I can draw and you can whatever you want since you don't like drawing- no, we can both do whatever we want!" She's still talking, voice bright, eyes bright, smile bright. "…Red?"

"I love you," he says suddenly, then stops. He blinks and then stops, face heating up. That wasn't part of the plan, he wasn't ever going to say that, he just did, he just _said that to her_ , for real, not a dream, and Yellow stares at him with wide eyes, looking just as surprised as he feels- no, she's probably a lot more astounded, and her face is really red too now, wow has he made things awkward now, well, time to, go, forever, maybe, y'know, bury himself in a hole-

"Did you just…say…"

He nods.

And she just stares at him for a moment, arms still by her side, until very slowly her hands ball up, and she starts shaking, and then all of a sudden she bursts out laughing, her giggles echoing off the walls all around him. But then she's crying too, and Red's confused, he wasn't expecting this, but then he wasn't expecting to just blurt out 'I love you' in the middle of a totally normal conversation.

"You- you love me," she gasps, still laughing. "Th-that's so- so funny because, I, in every way, and it's just-"

She sobs and laughs, but she's definitely smiling, and Red stands awkwardly, unsure if he should get closer, mind full of thoughts he's not sure he should act on.

"I'm so happy, sorry- sorry I'm always crying-" she says to him, rubbing her eyes. Red just shakes his head. "I'm embarrassing, right? B-but it's the- because you made me feel, like I existed, like I mattered, and then I just, fell in love you with, because, even though you're probably too good for me, I just- couldn't help it-"

Red steps forwards and she stares up at him with shining eyes, and he puts her a hand on her shoulder, leans down and kisses her. And she kisses back, and it feels like it's supposed to be like this, like it should always be like this, like it should have been a long time ago. When he opens his eyes he sees the flowers, the leaves, the light and she's there in the middle, smiling, flushed, radiant, beautiful. And he knows they'll be okay and it'll be alright and life will just always be worth living so long as the sun is shining, the sun right in front of him, in a glass room they created, filled with light and beauty, with just each other to share it with.

* * *

 **i somehow wrote this in like a weeeek  
i normally spend like 4000 years planning my fics (WHICH IS WHY I'M SO SLOW) but here this is  
feel free to tell me what you liked or what you didn't like ouo  
**


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